Even Though It's Breaking
by chocolatequeen
Summary: Rose had taught him to smile every day, but now she was gone. How was he supposed to smile without her by his side? Doomsday fic, sequel to Casting Out Fear and prequel to Retrouvailles. (So you know they're reunited eventually at least.)
1. Chapter 1

This is for the TPP July prompt "starting/ending the day with a smile." When I read it, a little voice in my head went, "Oh, you could make that the Doomsday prequel to Retrouvailles," which I'd been planning to write this month anyway. Part two with Rose's POV will be coming shortly, but I wanted to make sure I got this posted in July.

The Doctor's hearts seized up. He'd known from the moment he'd set foot in the white room at the top of Torchwood Tower that something bad was going to happen here. The timelines swirled around him, tangling into a temporal nexus that eliminated all hope of a happy ending.

And his wife was here. His precious Rose. He'd tried to get her to go back to the TARDIS, but she'd refused. For a moment, he'd been tempted to trick her into going to Pete's World, but the idea of _purposely_ severing their bond like that made him sick. He could barely stomach the idea of doing that to himself, and he certainly couldn't do it to her.

But in all his wild imaginings of what might happen, he'd never dreamed the day would end with Rose falling into the Void. He watched her fingers slip one by one from the lever and understood what the timelines had been trying to tell him.

 _Rose, love! Hold on! Please, hold on!_

Rose screamed against the pain of being stretched by the Void, and the Doctor winced as the ache reverberated across the bond, making his own shoulders and hands hurt. But as long as she held on, he could take care of her with the sonic, or in the med bay if need be. He couldn't fix things if she fell into the Void.

 _Not gonna let go,_ she told him fiercely. _I'm never gonna leave you, do you hear me?_

The Doctor nodded frantically, desperate to believe her even though he knew she was wrong. She'd promised him forever—she couldn't just leave him now.

But the pull of the Void was inexorable, and her fingers continued to slip. The Doctor could see it all happening, and for once, he hated the occasional hints of prescience his time senses afforded.

Finally, she lost her grip on the lever. "Rose!" he screamed, as if the power of his voice could keep her in this universe. The fear and panic radiating from her hurt more than the thought of losing her. He'd promised to take care of her, and he was breaking that vow.

At the last possible moment, Pete Tyler popped back from the parallel universe. Rose landed solidly in his arms, and safe from the dire fate that had awaited her, she looked back at the Doctor. The expectant hope in her eyes killed him. She thought he could save her, that he would be able to bring her home.

Then Pete hit the hopper, and they were gone. The Doctor stared at the spot where they'd been as the wind from the Void slowly died down. Just like he'd said, the breach closed in on itself, and the walls between the worlds knit themselves back together.

No longer being pulled towards the Void, his feet landed with a thud on the floor. Slowly, almost without being aware of it, the Doctor shuffled to the wall. He could still feel Rose, though their bond was stretched across the distance. Maybe… maybe he just stayed here forever…

He placed his hand against the wall, and yes! There she was. _Take me back,_ she begged him, and the Doctor's hearts broke completely.

 _I love you_ , he told her instead, and from the sudden emotional turmoil she projected, he knew she understood what he wasn't saying, why he'd left her plea unanswered. He could feel the walls closing, tighter and tighter. No matter how hard he tried to hold onto Rose, he wouldn't be able to keep her.

The Doctor choked back a sob when the walls closed and the bond broke. The little piece of Rose that had lived in his mind disappeared, leaving a gaping hole where she should be. Pain knifed through his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to breathe through it.

Somehow, he got himself back to the TARDIS and into the Vortex, and then he went to their room and collapsed onto the bed. The Doctor been broken like this once before, when he met Rose Tyler. That Doctor had been fresh from the Time War, with the guilt of killing two races weighing him down and the loss of his people in his mind driving him mad.

It had been Rose who'd helped him heal then. Rose who had listened after Platform One when he'd told her, in halting words, about losing his people. Rose who had come to him after they'd left Van Statten's and let him cry because if a Dalek could survive, why couldn't a Time Lord?

And finally, Rose who had asked him that night for a smile. He'd scoffed at that—how could he smile when he was still the only one left? But she'd insisted, and finally, to appease her, he'd pulled his lips into some twisted semblance of a smile.

She grinned back, a warm, tender smile that he didn't often see, and suddenly, his own smile was real. Then Rose had arms around his waist and her head was against his chest and for the first time since the War, the Doctor had felt like he might actually be able to truly _live_ again.

When Rose had pulled back, she'd made him promise—with mock sternness—to smile at least once a day, before he went to bed.

"Don't sleep every night, me," he'd shot back. "Not some ape who needs that much rest."

Rose had rolled her eyes. "Well fine," she'd retorted. "Then smile _at me_ before I go to bed. I mean it, Doctor."

He'd raised his eyebrows at her order, but the next night, after they'd dropped clicky-forehead Adam off at home, she'd paused in the corridor on her way to bed and turned around to look at him.

"Well?"

"Well what?" the Doctor had returned, hiding his smile. He'd make her work for it.

Rose had crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers tapping her elbow. "You know, Doctor," she'd drawled. "He was never my boyfriend."

And his smile had crept out, against his will.

From that night on, it had been a game of theirs. What could Rose say to make him smile, how long could he hold out?

And then one day, the Doctor had realised that Rose was right. Smiling at least once a day hadn't brought his people back or restored Gallifrey, but it had healed a part of his soul that he'd thought was irreparably damaged.

And Rose, more than being the one who encouraged him to smile, became the woman who made him smile. As he'd fallen in love with her, the smiles came more and more easily—because how could he help but smile in the presence of his love?

A sob broke through the knot of tension in the Doctor's chest. It had been so easy then. Even when he'd regenerated and they'd had a few rocky days, he'd been able to smile, because Rose was there. And this body was made to be with her, made to be hers.

The morning he'd woken up and discovered Rose asleep on his chest, broadcasting every one of her emotions for his touch telepathy to pick up, he'd smiled bigger than he ever had before. Rose Tyler _loved_ him. She loved him and she wanted him and oh, he didn't think he'd ever stop smiling.

He'd been worried for a few days after he'd accidentally formed their bond—what if she hated him for essentially marrying her without even telling her it was a possibility? But when they'd finally talked about it—when she'd figured out what had happened and asked him for confirmation—the smile on her face had dispelled his doubts.

Six months. That was how long they'd had as husband and wife. Six months of love and smiles and holding each other close.

And now, even though he knew she was gone, his mind kept stretching, reaching for her. It wasn't _right_ for her to be gone. It was the most wrong thing he'd ever felt, and he wanted to go back to that bloody white wall and beat on it until it broke down and he could bring Rose home.

The Doctor moaned low in his throat and curled up on Rose's side of the bed, wrapped around her pillow. By all the gods, he wanted her back. He _needed_ her back. How was he supposed to live this life without her?

The TARDIS pushed her way into his mind and soothed him to sleep. The Doctor fought against it for a moment, but then he realised she was right. He needed to rest. His mind needed to rest. Even though he'd still feel Rose's absence in his sleep, it wouldn't be this deep, gnawing emptiness that he felt right now.

He'd sleep now, and figure out how to live without Rose later.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor had warned Rose that losing their bond would be painful, but she was still wholly unprepared for the tearing sensation in her mind when the walls between the worlds solidified. She moaned low in her throat and clutched her head as she sank to the floor.

 _Doctor!_ her mind screamed, trying to reach for him across the Void. She knew, logically, that it would never work, but she couldn't stop her side of the bond from seeking him out. It wasn't supposed to end this way. They were supposed to have forever.

A comforting hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Mickey crouching down in front of her. "Come on, babe," he said quietly. "Let's get out of here."

Rose shook her head quickly, then squeezed her eyes shut at the bolt of pain that sent through her temples. "I can't, Micks. Five and a half hours, remember?"

"What do you mean, five and a half hours?" her mum demanded. "I'm not staying here for five and a half hours."

Mickey looked up at Pete. "Why don't you take Jackie to the mansion?" he suggested. "I'll wait with Rose and bring her over when we're done here."

"Oh no," Jackie's voice grew shrill. "No one's staying here. Come on, Rose. Get off your arse and come to Pete's with us."

Rose curled in on herself and wrapped her arms over her head. For several minutes, she was lost in her own world, focused on the place in her mind where the Doctor should be. She prodded at the empty spot, trying to get some sort of reaction from him, but nothing worked.

"Rose? Hey Rose, you can look up now," Mickey told her. "Pete convinced her to leave us behind."

Rose peeked up at her oldest mate. "Thanks, Mickey."

Mickey snorted. "Don't thank me yet. You're still going to have to explain things to her, and somehow I think the explanation won't make her very happy." He sat down on the floor beside her. "You're married, you and the Doctor. Aren't you?" He laughed when she looked up at him with wide eyes. "I've seen some interesting things since I started working for Torchwood," he told her. "It didn't take much to recognise a telepathic bond breaking."

Rose pressed her head against the wall and choked back a sob. "He's supposed to be there, in my head," she whispered. "And he's not, and it hurts."

Mickey wrapped his arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to lean on him. "We'll wait your five and a half hours, and then—if he hasn't come back—tomorrow we'll start looking for a way to send you home," he promised.

Five and a half hours passed without the Doctor or the TARDIS appearing in Pete's World. Rose swallowed the lump in her throat when the alarm Mickey had set went off. She'd known, really, that it was a minute hope, but it had been a hope all the same.

"Come on," Mickey said, jumping to his feet and holding a hand out for Rose. "Let's get you to the mansion so you can rest. Your first step to getting back home might be the hardest—because I don't think you've told Jackie you got married, have you?"

Rose shook her head as she dusted herself off. "It never seemed like the right time," she mumbled.

Mickey snorted. "More like, you didn't want to deal with her nagging. But you'll need to tell her now."

"I know." Rose sighed. "Maybe tomorrow."

But her mum was waiting for her in the living room when she arrived at the mansion, and it only took one look at the set of her jaw and the way her arms were crossed over her chest to know Jackie Tyler would not be put off any longer.

"Come on, out with it. What was that about, at Torchwood?"

Rose sighed and sank down onto the couch. Her headache hadn't abated at all, and the thought of having this out right here and now made her sick to her stomach.

"There's… The Doctor and me, we weren't just mates who travelled together," she said carefully.

Her mum snorted. "I saw through that ages ago, Rose. You looked at him like he hung the moon. Of course you were sleeping together."

Rose flinched. "That's not… I mean, we were—though probably not as long as you think—but that's not what I mean. We were… He's my…"

"Rose?" her mum asked when she didn't finish her sentence. "You were what? I don't think I like the way this sounds."

"Yeah, probably not," Rose agreed wearily. "We're married, Mum."

"You got married without me there?"

The disapproval in her mum's voice hit Rose hard, and she clenched her hands into fists. "It was… it was kinda spontaneous."

"You _eloped_? How long ago was this?"

Rose winced. "Six months."

"You've been married for six months? Why didn't you ever tell me? And don't give me that line about how, 'Oh, it was only a few weeks for you, Mum.' The point is, you had six months to tell me, and you didn't."

"We tried, a few times," Rose protested. "We were planning a visit when you called us about Elton, and then we got so busy... And we were gonna tell you today. We came to see you just for that."

"Six months would've been plenty of time to plan a proper, human wedding," Jackie continued, as if Rose hadn't spoken at all. She rolled her eyes. "Knowing that alien, I'm assuming you had some weird ceremony. Who knows if it's even valid anywhere else?"

"This is why I didn't tell you!" Anger and frustration erupted out of Rose. "Our wedding was one of the most perfect days of my life, and I couldn't bear for you to act like it wasn't good enough, just because it wasn't a regular human wedding!"

"Just a small ceremony, so I could see you get married. That's all I would have asked. Is that really too much?"

"Yes! When you'd have said things about how we need to get married properly and all that, as if my wedding wasn't proper! God, Mum, you just don't…"

The pain in her head intensified, and halos appeared around the lights in the room. Rose pressed her fists to her forehead until she thought she could move her head without throwing up.

"All that mattered was that it was the Doctor and me, giving each other vows."

Rose held her breath. She truly had no idea how her mother would react to that declaration, but she couldn't stand to hear another word belittling her wedding or her husband.

"You're right," Jackie said finally.

Rose blinked. "What?"

"It was plain to see that man adored you, and that's what really matters. Not where you got married."

Tears welled up in Rose's eyes when her mum sat down beside her and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know how much it hurts. Go ahead and cry. You'll feel better if you let it out."

"It's not just losing him," Rose sobbed, finally letting her tears flow. "Time Lords shared a telepathic bond with their mates. We were connected in our heads, and now he's gone, and it hurts so much."

Rose felt her hair shift when her mum sighed. "Well then," Jackie said, "we'll have to find a way to get you home."

oOoOoOoOo

The next four months were the worst of Rose's life, especially when she inevitably compared them to the six blissful months that had come before them.

She worked twelve hour days at Torchwood, trying to find a way to get back home. Once Pete had understood what was at stake for her, he'd given her access to the dimension hopper plans and any other resources Torchwood had.

Her mum had apologised for sending Pete to take Rose away from the Doctor, and that was when Rose had figured out the other reason why she and the Doctor had never managed to tell her about their wedding.

"Because you wouldn't have tried to split us up if you'd known, yeah?" she'd asked, and Jackie shook her head. "But if you hadn't sent Pete back, I woulda fallen into the Void, Mum. So it had to happen this way, see?"

None of the research or support from her family did anything for her headaches. Pain medicine made them manageable, but she always felt like there was a part of her missing.

Until one night, she woke up and heard her name on the breeze. The Doctor was close, closer than he'd been since Canary Wharf. Rose roused her family and insisted on tracking the voice down. Her Doctor had come for her.

When they arrived on the beach in Norway, disappointment swept over Rose when the TARDIS wasn't already there, waiting for her. She turned a slow circle, listening for the wheezing sound of the engines above the cry of the seagulls, but instead, she felt the air shimmer around her and a sudden relief from her migraine. She spun on the spot and broke into a wide grin when she saw the Doctor looking at her.

Her smile faltered when she realised he was merely a hologram, but she refused to give up hope. _He must still be in the TARDIS, on his way through._

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Inside the Tardis."

His weak smile set alarm bells clanging in Rose's head. If he were here to pick her up, he should spinning around in manic happiness, his smile stretched across his whole face.

"There's one tiny little gap in the Universe left, just about to close, and it takes a lot of power to send this projection." He swallowed hard, making his adam's apple bob. "I'm in orbit around a supernova. I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye."

Rose could already feel the tears threatening, but she forced them back ruthlessly. If this was her last chance to talk to her Doctor, she wouldn't blubber the whole time.

"You look like a ghost," she managed.

The Doctor frowned and held out the sonic screwdriver. "Hold on."

Rose heard the familiar buzz of the device, and a moment later, his outline solidified. She took a step towards him, her arm outstretched. "Can I…"

The Doctor shook his head, and Rose could feel the swell of grief from him. "I'm still just an image. No touch."

 _No touch._

"Can't you…" Rose blinked several times. "Isn't there something… My head's killing me, Doctor," she finally cried out, hating her weakness at the same time as she was relieved to get the words out.

He raised his arm halfway, then dropped it uselessly back to his side. "I know, love," he rasped. "I'm so sorry."

The wind sweeping up off the water blew Rose's hair into her face, and she brushed it back impatiently. "Can't you come through properly?" she begged.

She regretted the question a moment later when guilt spread across the Doctor's features. "I would if I could, Rose, I swear. I tried, so hard. But the whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."

In those words, Rose heard all his frustration as he'd tried time and again to find a way to her. She could see him pacing around the console room, trying to make the calculations give him the answer he wanted, and yelling at the TARDIS when the result still came back negative.

"Doctor… have you smiled?"

He furrowed his brow. "How can you ask me that, Rose?"

 _You promised,_ she wanted to say, but it seemed like a cruel promise to hold him to.

After a brief pause, the Doctor looked around at the beach. "Where are we? Where did the gap come out?"

"We're in Norway." It had taken them all day to drive there, but the time had flown by for Rose, because she'd thought home was waiting for her.

"Norway. Right."

Rose smirked; maybe she could tease a smile out of him. "It's called Dårlig Ulv Stranden."

The Doctor's pupils dilated. "Dalek?" he interrupted.

"Dår _lig_. It's Norwegian for bad" Rose looked out at the water, then back at him. "This translates as Bad Wolf Bay."

They shared a pained smile. Those words had brought them together once, and now they were tearing them apart. Something about that thought felt wrong to Rose, and she let it sit while she asked the most important question.

"How long have we got?"

"About two minutes," he murmured.

Tears started then, and Rose drew in a breath before speaking again. "I know you're probably gonna convince yourself that you were selfish to be with me, so I want you to remember that I love you."

The Doctor's shoulders drooped. " _Rose._ "

Rose's chest was tight, but she made herself keep going. "I mean it, Doctor. I love you, and I will never, ever regret one moment of our life together. Do you hear me?"

He sniffed and his eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"There's still a Torchwood on this planet. It's open for business." Rose stuck her chin out proudly. "I think I know a thing or two about aliens."

"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth."

His pride was evident in every syllable, and Rose smiled a real smile for the first time since he'd told her this was goodbye.

"That's me."

She cocked her head and looked at her husband critically, taking in his weight loss and the circles under his eyes. He needed hope.

"Plus, Torchwood is the best place on the planet to develop trans-dimensional travel."

The muscle in the Doctor's jaw twitched. "I told you; it's impossible."

Rose allowed a slight smirk to play with the corners of her mouth. "I like to do six impossible things before breakfast, me."

"Rose, please."

"No, Doctor." She pointed at the beach. "This place is named after Bad Wolf. Do you remember what those words are?"

His fear flared over the bond, and Rose soothed him as best as she could from a universe away.

"They're a message to lead me back to you—to my Doctor. I must have named this place Bad Wolf Bay because I knew that when we were standing here, we would need some reassurance that I _will_ get back to you." She smiled suddenly. "I promised you forever. My Doctor. This isn't the end for us."

After a long pause, the Doctor finally nodded. "Promise me you'll be careful, love," he pleaded, his voice low. "Right now, we're separated, but at least I know you're all right. If something happened to you…"

Rose smiled softly. "I promise, Doctor. I've got a whole team of scientists working with me. None of them will let me do anything until we know it's as safe as possible."

He nodded, and then Rose, knowing their time was ticking down, changed the topic. "What're you going to do?"

He swallowed hard and glanced away for a moment before answering. "Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords."

"On your own," Rose said in a flat voice, knowing the answer before he nodded. "Doctor, it isn't good for you to travel alone," she said gently. "You need someone."

He sniffed, and his eyes filled with tears. "I need _you._ "

Rose went hot, then cold, and she had to swallow twice before she could say anything. "I know. Me too, yeah? But find someone for right now, so that you're still there when I get back to you." Rose raised an eyebrow. "I'll be pretty cross if I come home and find out you've gotten yourself killed."

Amazingly, that got a watery laugh from the Doctor. "Oh, Rose Tyler, I love you."

The words eased a knot in Rose's stomach; she hadn't realised how much she needed to hear them. "I love you, too, Doctor. I'll see you later."

"Not if I see you first."

The words echoed, and the Doctor faded from the beach. Pain knifed through Rose's skull when their bond tore again, and she pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from crying out.

Alone, without a Doctor who needed her to be strong, and with an aching mind, the tears Rose had been fighting against seeped out. She stared at the empty spot where the Doctor's projection had been only moments before, then she turned towards her family.

One look had her mum running across the packed sand to wrap her up in a hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she whispered. "I know you thought you were going home."

Rose nodded against her shoulder. "I did, yeah. And you know what? I _am_ going home. Just not today."


End file.
